


Of ice and alcohol

by panamdea



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole, Star Wars Legends: X-wing Series - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-18 22:25:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4722602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panamdea/pseuds/panamdea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Hobbie tries desperately, if not successfully, to convince himself he's sober and everyone falls over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of ice and alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> Totally unbeated, feedback very very welcome.

The problem wasn’t the alcohol. Hobbie was pretty sure of that.

He was also pretty sure the problem wasn’t even the quantity of alcohol. Because he absolutely was not drunk. Definitely not. 

The problem was pretty clearly therefore the ice.

On reflection, it was possible that the problem was actually the ice and alcohol in combination. 

Actually, the _actual_ problem was Janson and his stupid need to walk down the block and get dinner. And drinks. In winter. 

Hobbie felt better for having worked out who to pin the blame on.

“Oh, and it’s a solid 8 from the Tanaabian judge.” Wes managed between laughter. 

Hobbie tried to push himself up but pain from various contusions interfered. He gave up and flopped back to the icy ferrocrete he’d so precipitously befriended seconds before.

“Ow.” He said vaguely. 

“Well if you will go throwing yourself at the floor, what do you expect?” Wes said, unsympathetically.

Hobbie regarded him with disfavour. "I did not throw myself at the floor."

"Looked remarkably like it from here." 

"That is because you're an idiot." Hobbie pointed out sourly. 

Wes ignored this comment – probably, Hobbie thought, because it was accurate and undeniable – and held out his hand. "Come on. Get up." 

“No." Hobbie waved his own hand in a gesture of dismissal. "I see my duty clearly. It is to adorn this sliver of pavement as a warning to others. I shall remain here, silent witness to the horror of winter, until the spring thaw. Now leave me. I wish to gaze upon the stars and consider the universe.”

Wes looked at him with an expression of confusion. “Are you feeling alright?”

Hobbie reviewed the last couple of minutes. On reflection maybe he wasn't quite as sober as he had thought. Not that he would admit it to the annoyingly vertical Wes. “Never better. Now push off and let me contemplate your hopefully imminent and painful death in peace will you?”

Wes offered him a hand again to pull him to his feet. “Get up you fool.”

In the interest of moving somewhere warmer, possibly with more drinks with which to nurse his bruises, Hobbie followed Wes' earlier example and ignored that comment, took the proffered hand and tried to pull himself up. 

The attempt would have worked better but for the ice that had been Hobbie’s downfall in the first place. Wes let out a startled exclamation as his own feet went out from underneath him and he found himself sprawled on the ground next to his friend. There was a startled silence, which Hobbie broke, surprising himself with his own laughter.

“Oh, and it’s a five from the Raaltiiran judge.” He choked.

“Nonsense.” Wes said sounding faintly injured. “That was at least a seven.”

“Five because I’m feeling generous.”

“Seven.” Wes said pushing himself up.

“Five.” Hobbie clambered, somewhat stiffly and extremely carefully, to his feet and offered his own hand to Wes.

“Six.” Wes insisted taking it and hauling himself upright with equal care. “At least.”

“Five and a half and that’s my final offer.”

Wes pulled a face. “Everyone’s a critic.”

"Try harder next time." Hobbie advised. 

"No thanks. I think I already sprained something." Wes rotated a shoulder with tentative care. "Ow." 

"Well if you will go throwing yourself..." Hobbie started. 

"Oh shut up." Wes grumbled. "You're not funny."

Hobbie nearly doubled over laughing at that. Alright so he had to admit he was drunk (and just when had he become such a light weight anyway? Oh right, around the time he'd lost two limbs) but Wes disconcerted was hysterical even sober. Not to mention something he didn't see often enough.

Wes rolled his eyes apparently caught between amusement and exasperation and continued, "I need another drink. You're buying." 

Hobbie grinned. Worth it. From the bruises to the impending bar tab to tomorrow's inevitable hangover, definitely worth it.


End file.
